The End
by HellsShipwright
Summary: When the nightmares grow worse, what becomes of a Warden? Second draft, changes have been made.


_Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or any products related to them, this work is purely for entertainment purposes. _

**Dragon Age Origins: The End**

The screams of the dying ring through the caverns, the pain of the Darkspawn filling my ears, my mind and my very darkened soul. This is my time, it is the calling. I almost made it to the 30 year mark, almost. I had lived longer than most of the Grey Wardens do. The average for a normal Grey Warden is about 25 - 26 years, the record being 35 years with the Warden being horribly warped at the end of his life, the blood having mutated his very appearance into something unrecognizable.

28 years, that is how long I have managed to fight the taint, to fight the poison that is even now killing me, turning me into one of the grotesque creatures before me. It is why I am here, this is one last blaze of glory before my end. A new wound opens up in my back, blood spraying and I hiss in agony, my armor all but gone thanks to the horde currently surrounding me. There are no ogres, a surprising fact I just now notice, they seem to have been waiting for me, these Hurlocks and Genlocks, it seems as if they want me to go down properly, without cheap tricks. No ranged weapons are being used, just sword and shield.

The blood is starting to flow more freely now, I can feel myself weakening, growing more tired with every swing. 103, thats how many darkspawn have fallen so far to my blade, the wounds I have gained should have killed an ordinary man, but I haven't been ordinary for nigh on 30 years.

My thoughts drift to all the companions I have made over the years. Alistair, the man I crowned King of Ferelden, despite his misgiving's he ended up being one of the most respected and loved Kings of all time his charisma and wit an immediate hit with the empress of Orlais, their relationship developed to form a powerful alliances between the continents.

Then there was Morrigan, the seductive Witch of the Wilds, no one was really certain where she had disappeared to after the defeat with the Arch-Demon, only rumors of a dark haired woman traveling with a little boy, a boy who was said to have the eye's of a dragon.

Zevran, the loyal Elven Crow had originally started out as simply a man who owed me a life debt, but over the travels and the war, he and I had rapidly become fast friends, with him assisting in busting me out of the dungeons, his experience with jails saving my life.

Our wise elder, Wynn, had passed away only a couple of years after the defeat of the Arch-Demon. The spirit that had saved her before had run its course, it did however grant her one more day before she passed, enough time for us to all gather and say good bye. That night, there had been a meteor shower, some said it was the Maker himself sending Wynn off in style. But I didn't think so, I believe that it was just fate.

Sten, the fierce and stoic Qunari, he left only a month after the defeat of the Arch-Demon to make his report to the Arishok, no-one heard of him again after that. However I did receive a letter from the Arishok himself, thanking me for saving the duty of the Sten.

Our beloved golem Shale finally found her past in the Thaig in which she lived. Shale spent her time after the war searching for a way to return her to the form she had been in. Wynn before she passed put her in touch with a contact who had numerous research projects going on. He met with Shale, their combined efforts produced multiple advances both in magic and in smithing, leading to there names being honored by both the circle and the smiths of Orzammar.

The drunken dwarf Oghren had joined our now quite diverse group of warriors when we arrived in Orzammar, seeking the aid of the dwarves against the Blight. I had originally noticed him threatening a guard, I later find out he was trying to gain aid in searching for his wife. He found as we were on our way into the deep roads, not even being able to remember if I was a woman or man, I laughed later but was wary of the dwarf. He proved himself a valuable ally through the deep roads and even out of them, joining us in our war against the darkspawn. He is now the Warden Commander of Ferelden, having joined us during the times of the Architect.

My Mabari, Mick. He protected me ever since we were first brought together, he had been my partner in so much, mischief, adventures, fights. He died a few years ago at the ripe age of 30. That is incredible for a Mabari Hound. We held a true funeral for him, for the faithful companion that kept us entertained, from the growling competitions with Sten to the ruining of Morrigan's underclothes. I will see him shortly.

My vision is beginning to fail now, with my movements sluggish and heavy, I lost the green blade some minutes, or hours, ago. I only hold Starfang now, a limp in my leg and blood obscuring my vision due to a cut above my eye. The Darkspawn can sense this, they are pressing harder, coming at me from all sides now.

Their is one person who's face has not left my mind since I left Vigil's Keep. Leliana, my beautiful bard and a faithful companion since we met in Lothering. She saved me just as I saved her, there were times when I had doubts, wether me and Alistair could defeat the Archdemon, and she was always there, always by my side, encouraging me to go on, to fight and to survive. She once told me that I had saved her, only later did she explain her past to me, about Marjolaine, her life as an Orlesian bard. The betrayal that sent her our way. Our child, Fergus, is grown these days, he left only a few years ago, to find his own way in life. He writes, promising to visit when he can, only then will he be told of my fate, of how his father met his end.

My mind flashes back to 3 days ago, when Leliana and I held each other for one final night, one night to remember and to say goodbye. She knows what is going to happen unless I die, what I will become. Death is always the better option than the alternative, becoming a Ghoul.

Im on my knees now, Starfang has been knocked from my tired grasp, Im defenseless, yet the final blow has not been struck. I raise my head, vision blurred and fading, even if I was to some how escape, my wounds are fatal. My blood is staining the blades of many Darkspawn, but their blood has bathed mine this day. One Hurlock Alpha is standing before me, a jagged blade held in his hand, I can see the eyes through the helmet, looking at me. Im not sure if it is merely a hallucination, but the eyes of the creature in front of me seem to be filled with... Pity.

The blade has been raised now, both hands clenching it. Getting ready for the blow that will end my nightmares, that will end the taint in my body.

I simply look. No more need be said on this day. I have no words to speak.

The blade is falling in slow motion. Everything so clear.

Images are flashing through my head. My Family. My friends. All the people I love. Everyone who has died. They are there. They are waiting.

I don't even feel the blade as it sinks into my shoulder, smoothly cutting through me, cutting skin, muscle, bone.

It stops just above my heart. But the blow has been struck. When the blade is removed my strength fails me. I see the earth shift, tilting to the side as I fall.

I hit the ground. Darkness rushing in to take me. The ground is red with blood, mine? The Darkspawn's? I don't know.

As I feel my consciousness fading, only one face remains in my mind. She never left me, not once.

Leliana.

_Ok, Im not really sure if I captured the moment there but let me know what you think, as always 'constructive' criticism is appreciated, but flames will be used for my fluffy marshmallows. _

_R&R Please_


End file.
